


A Tale of New York City

by pawnofkings



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Banter, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Slice of Life, because there's no plot you can read at any time in any order, will be marked as complete though it's continuously updating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26046715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pawnofkings/pseuds/pawnofkings
Summary: Snapshots of lives lived in a run-down New York apartment.22/08/2020: 1. Kissing in the laundromat27/08/2020: 2. A visit to the farmer's market (and a shared plate of fries)
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	1. Laundromat Escapades

**Author's Note:**

> Yooo did y'all see BTS' new music video (Dynamite)? That disco vibe is everything

The laundromat was loud despite its stillness. An older woman sat hunched over in the line of plastic seats along the opposite wall, beside a man tapping his feet to whatever played in his earbuds. Around them, washing machines droned on and on.

Andrew moved methodically, transferring clothes from hamper to machine until he couldn’t fit any more. Add a bit of detergent, slam door shut. Select a program; the faster the better.  _ Start _ .

The machine rumbled to life and Andrew got out of his crouching position, gaze meeting icy blue eyes as he straightened. Neil, sitting atop the machine beside theirs, smiled at him. 

“So unhelpful”, Andrew muttered. 

Neil hummed. “You like me anyway.”

“Life would be easier if I didn’t”, Andrew said, and it was the closest he ever got to admitting to his affection. Neil interpreted it easily, smile splitting into a full-blown grin, and Andrew rolled his eyes. 

Neil looked so soft in that moment, seeming like he’d drown in the XXL-sized orange hoodie he’d picked up from a thrift store as if wearing it made sense.

(“Five dollars for this much material is a steal”, Neil said.

“There is such a thing as too much”, Andrew replied.)

It nearly reached his knees and his choice in shorts meant he looked like he wasn’t wearing any pants at all. Andrew, after a quick look around, moved to stand between his legs, and Neil made room for him immediately. “Publicly displaying our affection, are we?” Neil teased.

Andrew looked up at him, deadpan. “I have no affection for you.” Even so, he pressed his palms to Neil’s bare knees, tracing the edge of a band-aid with his pinky. Neil was always bandaged in one way or another, and they went through enough band-aids that Neil had gotten bored of the standard beige ones and started wearing the most stupid (Andrew’s opinion, not Neil’s) ones he could find. Today, that was a Dora the Explorer one, though Andrew was sure Neil hadn’t watched a second of the show in his life. “What’d you do this time?”

“Fell off my bike. Onto the grass, which I guess is lucky, but there was a rock.”

“You’re pathetic.”   


“I know.” Neil smirked. “Kiss it better?”

Andrew had gotten more comfortable with showing his feelings, but that was mostly because of how much he got to practice conveying just how unimpressed he was with Neil’s bullshit. He made sure to do so just then, but Neil didn’t seem phased at all.

“You can kiss here too”, Neil offered, pressing a fingertip to his bottom lip. Andrew got distracted watching color return to it after Neil removed his finger, red suffusing it once again, and Neil’s smug look when he moved his eyes back up let him know he’d noticed.

“You’re so stupid”, Andrew muttered.

“You say that every day, yet you’re still here.”

“I guess I like torturing myself.”

Whatever snarky remark Neil would’ve responded with was interrupted by Andrew closing the space between them.


	2. Sharing Fries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew and Neil do some shopping and share some fries. A bit of banter. Very slice-of-life.

Tourists never got the authentic experience of the city they ventured into. They got the commercial, marketable,  _ polished _ trip, the equivalent of using a PowerPoint presentation to let someone know what it’s like to eat ice cream.

The ice cream, in the case of NYC, isn’t quite walks in Central Park, nights spent on Broadway, and cocktails at nightclubs until the city went to bed (which it never did, that much was right). In Andrew’s experience, having lived there for several years, it was the pigeon on every lamppost, the fifty-six languages spoken in every apartment building, and unwashed subway tile. It was cramped apartments over spacious hotel rooms, watching the ball drop on New Years Eve over television because you weren’t stupid enough to go there in person, fresh produce stands and soggy newspapers on the ground in front of them.

“Andrew?” Neil called. Andrew lifted his gaze from the half-smudged headline ( **De Blasio Addresses Sunday’s Subway Incident** ) and spotted the redhead not too far away. He’d moved a few crates down, moving blushing peaches from a wooden crate into a brown paper bag. Having gained Andrew’s attention, he continued. “We need pears. At least four.”

Andrew grunted in acknowledgment and pulled another paper bag out, finding the biggest and freshest ones. An older man watched him from his perch on a wooden chair, cigarette sticking out from between his lips. “Four pears? $3.50”, he said then, and Andrew nodded, passing some coins over. The man spread them out in his palm and tapped each one with a fingertip as he added up the sum, dropping them into a bag when it checked out.

Neil popped up next to him, three bags clenched in his fists, and allowed the man to count the contents and dictate prices before passing the money over.

When they started walking away, Andrew bumped his shoulder against Neil’s. “Eight peaches is objectively too many.”

“Nicky sent me a recipe for peach cobbler”, Neil explained. He’d placed the small bags into his backpack, refusing Andrew’s chivalrous offer of carrying it for him. “I’ve never tried it before.”

Andrew hummed in acknowledgment as they left the plaza behind, joining the fray of too many people migrating down the street. He couldn’t see far, could barely see a few yards ahead thanks to his lacking height, and Neil didn’t have much of an advantage. (He was only tall enough to easily plant kisses on Andrew’s forehead, which Andrew assumed was why he wouldn’t stop doing it.)

“We should get lunch”, Andrew said when he saw the familiar diner sign up ahead. The place was nothing special, but it was blessedly inexpensive (in exchange for the excess of trans fats and chemical additives, presumably, but Andrew didn’t care) and they’d taken to eating there fairly often. “I don’t feel like cooking.”

Neil agreed easily and the pair made their way inside. Yellow light reflected off white subway tile, covered in spots by art deco-style prints. A young woman was in the process of wiping down the blue plastic tables but quickly helped them to a clean booth. Neil, as always, let Andrew order, since the man was near-apathetic to food and would eat anything he was presented with.

“We need more kibble”, Andrew commented. 

“And coffee filters”, Neil added.

“Guess we’ll go for a part two on the shopping, then”, Andrew said, stretching out his legs. His boots made brief contact with Neil’s sneakers, and the younger man playfully kicked his soles. If Andrew weren’t so mature, he would’ve kicked right back, but he settled on a raised eyebrow and an unimpressed stare, instead.

“I can do it if you empty the dishwasher”, Neil offered. “And I’ll take out the trash if you deal with the laundry.”

“That’s your job anyway, but fine.”

Their uncomplicated order was prepared quickly, and Andrew eagerly unfolded the grease-proof paper from around the massive serving of jalapeño cheese fries. Neil looked at it with some distaste before picking out the least slathered ones.

“The gym is gonna start hosting runs on Thursdays, too”, Neil said. One of Neil’s two jobs was at a gym near Central Park, and they hosted group jogs through the park three afternoons a week - four, now, it seemed. “It suits my schedule, so I’ll be doing those, too.”

“Good for you”, Andrew said, trying to use two fries as chopsticks to pick up a jalapeño slice. It unsurprisingly didn’t work, so Andrew resolved to get his hands dirty and picked it up with his fingers, plopping it into his mouth.

“It’s an extra $200 a month.”

“You’re turning into the breadwinner of this household”, Andrew said. 

Neil gave a half-smile. It creased the burn scar, but also the corner of his left eye, and Andrew found himself focusing more on that part. “I think it’ll put us closer to fifty-fifty.”

“Good”, Andrew said, picking several fries off the pile and holding them in front of Neil’s mouth. “You’re finally carrying your weight.”

Neil let Andrew feed him the fries and kissed his fingertips before he could pull them away, full smile on his lips.

“Gross”, Andrew said, but it wasn’t.


End file.
